


Saving Stan Pines

by Xandriaale



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: And I'm maybe only a third of the way done, And thus, Gen, I got started on this months ago, I started thinking about how it would have played out if Stan had some kind of guardian angel, I took some liberties with the layout of the Pines' apartment in New Jersey, also, gender neutral reader, rather than just his own con-man ways to get out of situations, this was born!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-11
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-16 18:20:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9284156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xandriaale/pseuds/Xandriaale
Summary: Stanley Pines gets into a lot of trouble.A LOT of trouble.And for some reason the universe has decided that you're the perfect person to keep helping him out of it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I would go literal weeks between adding bits to this story, so if it seems choppy, that's why. The idea for this hit me in a dream, and, like with my other fic, I'm working on second person, so congratulations! Gender neutral reader to the rescue. I've tried to find shortcuts around the usual reader insert "____"'s, but I'm not sure how well it works. Go ahead and leave me some feedback, any at all is very much appreciated!

_Oh, ugh... Where?_ Grogginess, and a grit against your cheek. _Where am I?_ The ocean rushes in your ears, and if not for the fact that you're breathing air, biting in its coldness, you would believe yourself to be amidst the waves themselves. You brace yourself up on trembling arms, the cold quickly seeping through your tired muscles into your very core. _Why... Why am I so tired? How did I get here?_ A cry began to rise over the dimming of the rushing waves. 

"Stanley! STANLEY!" A young voice, frantic. "Somebody! Help! Stanley! Stanley hold on!"

Pushing the exhaustion away, you rise as quickly as you can and turn, looking for the voice. A young boy is standing near the edge of the coastline, obviously caught between running for help and keeping an eye on...

Another boy, caught in the current.

As you run towards the water, you shed your socks, pants, and jacket, letting them trail behind you like breadcrumbs. You're running past the boy yelling for Stanley in only your t-shirt and underwear, but you're not thinking about that. All you're thinking is to _Save him. Save Stanley._

You run into the receeding water, it prickles like television static against your ankles before returning and wrapping your calves in frozen chains. You run until the effort of lifting your legs is no longer worth the time it takes, your toes long numb, before exhaling and letting the rest of your body slip into the cold. You do your best to ignore the chill that now seems rooted in your very soul, keeping your eyes on the brown hair of the boy, pushing closer with each determined stroke.

You are nearly to him when he slips under the water. You dive, eyes burning from the salt and cold, searching desperately, feeling your lungs straining for oxygen that doesn't exist down here, and finally see him floating several feet below the surface. His hair is swaying in the current, and his eyes are closed. He looks so peaceful. Everything down here is so calm. The cymbals and kickdrums have been reduced to white noise, and you don't feel the cold anymore. You are tempted to join him, to let both of you stay here, where it is warm and quiet. You close your eyes...

"Stanley!"

The other boy. He's still out there, still waiting. _What am I doing? Wake up!_ You grab Stanley around the middle and pull both of you back out of the quiet.

Stanley doesn't make a sound when you break the surface, and you know there isn't much time left. You make your way back to shore, your new goal the boy on the bank, the weight at your side a driving focus. As soon as your feet touch sand you have both arms around the unconscious boy and are running towards dry ground. You nearly collapse when you feel the give of dry sand under your heels, catching yourself at the last second and gently laying Stanley down. When you listen to his chest you can't hear any heartbeat.

"Stanley!" The boy kneels down at Stanley's side, hands fluttering in uncertainty. He looks at you, worry evident in every inch of his face. "Is he gonna be okay?" You don't have time to answer, you simply begin pressing rhythmically against Stanley's chest, trying to convince his lungs to give up their hold on the freezing seawater. In between trying to pump his heart and forcing air into his lungs you manage to convey to the other boy through chattering teeth that you're going to need to clothes you left behind. The air is unusually still, and everything is exactly where you dropped it, a disjointed arrow pointing towards your almost-graves. Just as the boy returns with your clothes, Stanley coughs, water spilling out down past his lips. He sits up and turns, vomiting water and bile into the sand, nearly collapsing into the mess. You catch him, pulling him away, both shivering in the cold of the sunless day. 

"W-We need to get him o-out of these wet clothes." You say. Stanley is limp in your arms, eyes half-closed and breathing shallowly. He doesn't seem to have heard what you said, but the other boy did.

"What's he gonna wear instead?" You make a gesture with your elbow towards the pile of your clothes in his arms, your hands busy peeling the wet shirt from Stanley's icy skin. 

"The jacket, please." You know the fact that you've stopped shivering is a bad sign, but as long as your adrenaline keeps you moving you're going to worry about Stanley first. "What's your name?"

"Stanford." He's twisting his hands together, they're wound so tight it seems he almost has extra fingers. He's the spitting image of Stanley, and you realizes the boy you hold in your arms is his twin brother. You smile at him, trying to put all the warmth you wish you felt into it. 

"Can you help me?" Stanford straightens, balling his fists at his sides and nods. _Oh, he does have extra fingers._ "Once I get this jacket on him, I need you to take off the rest of his clothes. Everything has to come off, and then we need to put the socks and pants on him. Okay?" Stanford nods, and gets to work, you maneuver Stanley when Stanford asks, and soon the two of you have him changed. 

"Okay! He's dressed!" Stanford stands up, and you tightens the jacket around Stanley, picking him up and holding him to your chest. 

"Where do you live, Stanford?" You ask.

"Just a couple 'a streets over, c'mon!" You follow him down remarkably empty streets, before stopping at a door leading to an apartment above a pawn shop. He opens the door and pulls you inside, running up the stairs as you follow sedately, the immediate warmth of the home painful. "Ma! Pop! Stanley's hurt!"

A gruff voice carries over the stairs from down the hall you can see as you near the landing. "Did he get in another fight with that Crampelter boy?" A stocky man appears in a doorway, a thin woman behind him. Both of them freeze when they see their son being carried by a dripping wet, half-naked stranger. 

"He was out in the water," you begin. "He went under, and he may still have fluid in his lungs." 

"It's the middle of November," the woman whispers disbelievingly. "What was our little Stanley doing out in the water in the middle of _November_." 

"Go get some blankets." The man says, obviously used to having his orders followed. Their mother doens't move, and her husband turns to her, his voice gentling. "He's going to be okay." His voice returns to it's previous tone, "Stanford, go get the spare winter blankets."

"Yes, sir!" The boy runs off down the hall. His mother mumbles something about getting a fire going and wanders through another doorway, and you follow, wanting to get him completely warmed up as soon as you can. Stanley is still unresponsive, but he's beginning to shift, like he's waking up from a particularly deep nap. 

"Wha..." he tries to ask you a question, but you shush him. 

"You're home, and you're going to be okay." You say, as reassuringly as you can. "You may get a cold but you're going to be okay. We're going to get you bundled up and warm before you know it." He's quiet, but still shifting slightly, and the fire is beginning to truly build as you enter the living room. 

"Bring him over here, by the fire." Stanley's mother is pulling a blanket off the couch back and motions towards the carpet by the hearth. Stanley is shivering in earnest now, and the two of you are about to wrap him up when Stanford comes running into the room, a mountain of blankets in his arms with their ends trailing behind him, and a bundle of fabric clutched in one hand. 

"I brought his warmest pajamas!" 

"Good thinking, Stanford." You say, and take the blankets handed to you. You focus on separating them out while Stanford and his mother pull your clothes off of Stanley. Soon he is changed and bundled up, propped up against his brother, who has wrapped an arm around him and is rubbing at his blanketed shoulder. You are about to leave when the boy's mother comes back in, a robe in one hand and a change of clothes in the other.

"Here, I brought you something to change in to."

"Oh, I'll be fine. I h-have these." You, warmed slightly after sitting near the fire, are shivering again and hold up the clothes you had wrapped around Stanley at the beach. The woman pursed her lips and arched an eyebrow.

"Those clothes may be dry, but they're freezing cold." She pulls you up by an arm and walks you out of the living room. You twist your head, trying to keep an eye on the boys by the fireplace. "The boys will be fine for a few minutes while you change, c'mon."

You hadn't seen the boy's father since you followed the woman into the living room, but as you both pass the kitchen you can see him warming something up on the stove. "I haven't seen you around, do you live nearby?"

You stop suddenly in the hallway as you realize you can't remember anything before waking up on that beach. You try to remember a name, a birthday, anything, but nothing comes to mind. But... you knew how to save Stanley. You knew to leave some dry clothes behind for when you had pulled him out of the water, you knew to do compressions when he wasn't breathing, you knew it was a bad sign that you had stopped shivering despite still being in the freezing cold. Why did you know to do all this, but you couldn't come up with your own name?

"I-Well, I, uh." You didn't want to make her worry about you, she was already worried about Stanley. "I'm... really new to the area." _There, that's pretty much the truth, right?_ "I wouldn't even be able to tell you where I live." _Definitely true._ "But I'm sure I can find it." _Lie._ "I just want to make sure Stanley is okay before I go." 

"Well, I'm Ma Pines." The woman says, not smiling, but not unkindly. "Filbrick is making his special hot chocolate. Once you get changed, why don't you have a cup?" You thank her, taking the clothes she offers you and closing the bathroom door gently. _Where do I go after this?_ You briefly entertain the idea of asking for directions to the police station, but discard it when you realize: asking something like that out of the blue is bound to raise some red flags. You quickly change into the borrowed clothes, the fit isn't quite right, but they're warm and dry. You exit the bathroom and return to the fireplace, where Stanley is looking a little more awake. 

"Hey! Stanley's up!" Stanford is beaming, and the last few signs of worry have left his young face. Now unafraid for his brother's safety he gives him a playful shove. "This's the one who saved your life, doofus. Say thank you." Stanley's cheeks are red, either from embarrassment or being wrapped up in all the blankets, it really could be either one at this point, and he mumbles a quick thank you while burying his face further into his surrounding blanket burrito. 

"Stanley Pines, that is not how we thank someone!" Ma crows as she enters with two mugs of steaming hot chocolate in each hand. "I'm sorry about him, he ran off and was raised by wolves until he was four." At her statement, Stanley threw his head back and howled, only to have to stop midway because of a coughing fit. He takes a sip of the hot chocolate handed to him and smiles.

"Thanks, Ma!" He looks much better now. You sip from your own mug, the warm drink heating you up from the inside out. 

"This is delicious, thank you ma'am." You say. Filbrick enters with his own mug, and he and Ma sit down side-by-side on the couch. The five of you sit in silence, sipping intermittently, and you realize you feel content. The adrenaline from before is fading and quickly being replaced by exhaustion. You stifle a yawn, which Ma notices. 

"You're clothes are dryin'. Shouldn't be too much longer now." You thank her and move to the kitchen. Without truly thinking about it you wash your mug and leave it to dry on the rack near the sink. _Oh, so I'm one of those kinds of people._ You sigh, and wish you could at least remember your name. Stanford wanders into the kitchen and puts his mug in the sink. 

"Stanley's asking for you." He says, and you follow him back into the living room. "Here ya' go Stanley."

Stanley's mug sits off to the side, empty. He reaches a hand out and gestures in a "get down here" kind of way. You sit down cross-legged and he crawls over, shedding a few blankets as he goes, and steps into your space. He wraps his arms around your neck and hugs you tight. You're a bit surprised, he didn't seem like a hugger, and after a moment of you not moving you hear him grumble.

"This is a one-time only thing, so you should take advantage of the gift you've been given." You snort a laugh and wrap your arms around him. He pulls away and hands you one of the blankets that he dropped. "Here, your ears are cold, doofus." 

"Thank you," you say with a relaxed smile and wrap yourself up. 

"How'd you know that pushing on Stanley's chest would save him?" Stanford asks. The two of them have settled on opposite sides of you, and are looking up at you with wonder.

"Well," you begin, for some reason feeling like what you did on the beach was common knowledge. "When I was pushing on his chest it was making his heart beat, keeping his blood moving. And-"

"What about when you kissed him?"

"You kissed me?" Stanley suddenly looks horrified, and begins rubbing his blanket against his lips furiously. "Oh geez, now I'm gonna have cooties, yuck!"

"I was pushing air into your lungs so that you still had oxygen." You quickly explain, knowing that Mr. and Mrs. Pines are hearing everything you three are saying, and you really don't want them worried that you're some kind of pervert. Stanley stops and looks at you, suspicious.

"So it wasn't a kiss?"

"It was not a kiss." You say. He's mollified, and leans back into your side. He and Stanford yawn in unison. "Looks like a couple of someone's are ready for bed."

"No!" They both cry out. You look to Ma, who was returning from carrying empty cups to the kitchen.

"Wrong answer." She says, a good-natured glint in her eye. "C'mon boys, off to bed."

"What about a story?" Stanford asks.

"Yeah, will you read us a story?" Stanley asks you, pulling on your blanket. You look to Ma, questioning. 

"It's fine with me," she shrugs.

"Yes!" Stanley jumps up and runs off. "Let me go grab one!"

"Wait!" Stanford calls, scrambling up and after him. "Stanley I wanna pick the story!" You can somewhat hear them arguing over what to read as you stand from your spot on the living room floor.

"I've never seen them take to a stranger so fast," Ma says quietly. There's a faint ding from womewhere in the apartment. "That'll be your clothes."

As she left, you heard Mr. Pines stand up and walk towards you. You feel his hand on your shoulder, feel it squeeze gently. 

"Thank you."

After he leaves, you wait for Ma to return with your clothes.

"Here you are, dear." She hands them to you, and you return to the bathroom to change, but Stanley and Stanford are in there elbowing each other and laughing as they brush their teeth. Stanley is the first one to notice you in the mirror.

"You gotta change your clothes?" He asks. You nod. "C'mon Ford!" He pulls his brother, toothbrush still in his mouth, out of the bathroom.

After you've changed you open the door to see Stanford waiting.

"Ma says to just leave the clothes with us. And, can I put my toothbrush back, now?"

"Sure," you say, and move towards Stanley who is waving at you from a doorway.

"In here!" He runs in and jumps into the lower of the bunk beds along the right wall. He digs around underneath comics and various toys for the edge of his covers, yanking on them and sending things toppling to the floor when he finally finds it. "C'moooooon, Foooooooord!"

"I'm coming!" Stanford comes around the doorway and trades you the bundle of borrowed clothes for a book. Once Stanford is settled into his own bunk, you sit down on the ground, open the book, and begin reading.  
"Treasure Island, Part 1. The Old Buccaneer..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The chapter finished, you look up to check on the boys and see Stanley is fast asleep. You stand to check on Stanford and find him also lost to dreams. He fell asleep wearing his glasses. You smile at the boy, taking them off and laying them on the bedside table on top of the book.

You leave their room as quietly as you can, taking care to gently close the door behind you, and as you make your way back down the hall you can see Ma sitting at a window nook in the kitchen. She's dressed in a houserobe now, and has a mug of coffee in one hand and a phone wedged between her ear and shoulder. She holds up a finger in a "wait a moment" gesture when she sees you walk in.

"Yes, I can see it now... the man of your dreams will be tall, and wearing yellow when you first meet." You can hear a high-pitched chattering coming from the phone at her ear. "Yes. Yes." She sighed. "Marlene. Marl-- Marlene, I'm hanging up now. You'll get a bill in the mail, goodnight!" Marlene was still chattering away when Ma hung up the phone. She smiled at you. "That Marlene, always wanting to know about something." She waved you over, rising and picking up an envelope off the counter as she met you in the middle of the kitchen. "Fil told me to give you this." 

When you look inside the envelope, you see a rather sizeable stack of bills. And not small ones, either. Your eyes wide, you try to shake your head, politely refuse, they own a business yes, but surely this is too much...? 

"Keep it." She said, firmly. "I won't take it back, and that free spirit you saved today is worth ten times as much."

You almost felt guilty taking the money, but the twisting in your gut is overruled by the nagging in your mind that Hey, you have no idea who you are and this money may be all you have. 

"Thank you." She pats you on the shoulder and you take that as your cue to leave. You fold up the envelope and slip it into your pants pocket as you make your way down the stairs to the front door. It's even colder now than it was when you carried Stanley from the beach, and you're extremely grateful that Ma ran your clothes through the dryer. You wave goodnight to Ma, and begin walking down the street away from the beach. You turn back to see if she's still watching you and she waves again, then closes the door.

A few streets down you turn the corner and stop to try and gain your bearings. Maybe if you go back to the beach there'll be something that'll remind you of who you are. Alright, you nod. A plan of action. You take a few steps back in the direction you came when you feel a tugging at your chest.

The feeling at your sternum was unlike anything you've ever felt before, it was something building, trying to come out of you, pushing, pushing, pushing-you crouched down, pulling your arms into your chest and using the leverage of them against your knees to press back against the thing growing inside you, to shove it down, keep it in, keep it in, keep it in, keep it

The sudden absence of whatever that was is accompanied by an intense, stifling heat. You look up, suddenly squinting in the overbearing sunshine. You're not at the street corner anymore, and, looking around, you don't even think you're on the same street.

You recognize a few of the shops from your rush back to the Pines' home what seemed like only a few hours ago. If you remember correctly... You wander down the street and make a turn and... Yep. There it is, Pines' Pawn. But, you're back in the direction of the beach, and you had walked the other way last night? You had begun sweating at some point, but had kept your jacket on out of confusion, or stubborness, and you tie it around your waist as you walk in to a rather busy diner. 

The woman behind the counter is hand drying a rack of coffee mugs when you walk in the door. She smiles brightly, saying she'll be with you in "just a moment, hun."

"Actually," you begin politely, "I was hoping you could answer a quick question for me?" She nodded, giving you a quick up-down glance. "I was just wondering if you could tell me what day it is?" As her smile turns into more of a teasing smirk, you feel the need to say, you don't know, something else. Anything else. "I, um... forgot." 

"Not a problem, hun. Happens to the best of us," she winks as she says this and you feel the tips of your ears grow warm as you smile back. "The date is June 29th, 1964." You try not to let your smile drop with your stomach.

"Thanks, um..." you sneak a look at her name tag, "Marlene." The woman Ma was on the phone with last night? "Um, see ya!" She waves at you with a dishtowel covered hand, and you nearly trip over your own feet as you half back-out-of, half run from, the diner.

Out in the sunshine you let the heat weigh you down, something to keep you from doing what you feel like doing, which is floating off and up into the clouds and space and the universe because NOTHING IS MAKING SENSE. Just a few hours ago, last night at the very longest, you were shivering and Stanley's lips were blue, and Ma had said it was the middle of November and

You run into something, or rather, someone, or rather, someone's outstretched arm. You were wandering and not paying attention at all to where you were going and wow you should really thank this very kind gentleman for clothes-lining you seeing as how you were about to walk out into traffic. He pats you on the shoulder once you tell him you're fine, really, and continues walking down the sidewalk. You need to pay more attention to your surroundings. 

"Stanley!" 

Well that's familiar. You turn around to see the two boys and their mother walking your way. Well, Ma and Stanford were walking, but Stanley was sprinting headlong towards you. His head was turned around, yelling something you couldn't make out, and he was nearly upon you. As he passed you, you turned and grabbed him around his middle, lifting slightly so his momentum as he came to a sudden stop carried him up, instead of both of you into the street currently occupied by a truck that had chosen at that moment to go hurtling past.

"Stanley Pines, what exactly were you thinking running off like that!" Ma is slightly bent over so her face is at the same level as Stanley's whose feet are swinging in the air above the ground and whose arms are clutching tightly at your own wrapped around his waist. You can't see his face, but his grip is like iron, and is kind of starting to hurt. You set him down gently and he rubs the back of his neck while twisting one foot side to side. 

"Sorry, Ma." 

Ma straightens and looks at you, recognition shining in her eyes almost immediately. "Why hello there!" She straightens her purse on her shoulder as Stanley looks up when he hears his mother's tone of voice. "You always seem to be in the right place at the right time!" She winked. "I knew you were good people. I told Filbrick when we didn't see you around that we just weren't on the same astrological path." 

"Hey! It's you!" Stanley looks like he doesn't know whether to be excited to see you or embarrassed that you had to save him again. "Um... thanks." Stanford elbowed Stanley in the arm. "Again. Thanks again."

"Just be more careful when running down the street next time, okay?" He brightens at this and puffs his chest out.

"I was racin' Ford!" 

"Stan, you didn't even tell me beforehand, you just yelled 'Go!' and took off!"

"You're just mad cuz I was beatin' ya!"

"Boys," Ma interrupts, the argument dies. "Really though, you're a good spirit."

"I was reading up on those!" Stanford piped up. "There are ones called, Eu-Eudaemons?"

"That's too hard to say!" Stanley said. "I'm just gonna call you Dae, since you didn't give us your name last time."

"Stanley, they do have a name, you can call them by that."

"Oh, Dae is fine." You said quickly, since you didn't actually remember what your name was. "It's probably the coolest nickname I'll ever have." You wink at Stanley and Stanford, and they smile. Ma thanks you again and puts a hand on each of the boy's shoulders.

"C'mon you two, your father's waitin' for ya' at the gym."

"Hey, can Dae come watch?" Stanley seems rather excited, but Stanford looks a bit sheepish. "We're learning how to box!" 

"That sounds really cool," you begin excitedly, before shifting your voice to something more apologetic. "But I actually have some really important errands to run, so maybe next time?" Stanley pouts and Stanford looks a little relieved.

"Next time! But make sure it's not another two years before we see you again!" You freeze in place, trying not to let the instant panic show on your face. Two years? You force a smile that you desperately hope fools the boys, and wave as they begin to walk away. 

"Bye Dae!" 

"Goodbye!" Ma stops to dig a business card out of her purse. "Phone Psychic" it reads, and has a phone number listed at the bottom. 

"If ya' ever need anything, just call, alright? Thank ya' again for grabbin' Stanley before he ran out into the street." You pocket the card and nod, watching for a bit as they walk away, the image of the boys shoving at each other playfully, all tension from the previous events forgotten, causing a warmth to bubble in your chest. It's comfortable, and reminds you of the hot chocolate you drank... two years ago, apparently. 

You decided to not wander aimlessly this time, choosing to sit down on a nearby bench while you think over what you've learned. Going to the beach is basically useless at this point. You think dejectedly. _Anything to show who I was before I woke up is probably long gone._ You sit in silence for a few moments, not thinking, just enjoying the warmth of the sunshine. 

_How could it have been two years?_

The warmth in your chest had only continued to grow, and was now quickly morphing into the feeling from last night (it was really only maybe half an hour ago, but it was easier to believe more time had passed than what actually had). The pressure in your chest built, and you closed your eyes, willing it to go away. _Why is this happening again? I just want to know what's going on!_

The pressure in your chest was nearly unbearable, and you were doubled over on the bench. People were passing you, but weren't paying you any attention. You called out for help, but no one turned to you. It was like they couldn't see you. You closed your eyes and waited...

Once again the feeling vanished suddenly, there was some residual warmth in the air, though it wasn't nearly as hot as it had been. The sun was mostly set, painting the nearly deserted streets with streaks of orange and red and purple and blue.  
You weren't on the bench any more. Well, you weren't on the bench you had previously been sitting on, at any rate. You were looking out at an empty parking lot, possibly the size of a football field. 

Standing and trying to get your bearings you glance around. Glass Shard Beach High School looms behind you, its dark windows reflecting your confusion tinted orange by the sunset. Why in the world have I been brought here? Idly, you begin walking, looking for Stanley or Stanford. They were nearby both of the previous times you looked up to find yourself in an unfamiliar place, and you were slowly beginning to think there was a reason for that. To the right a large grassy yard separated the high school and Glass Shard Beach Middle School, where a cop sat in his car with the windows down, eating a sandwich, and further beyond the middle school you could see Glass Shard Beach Elementary. _Wow, they sure didn't put in a whole lot of effort with these names, huh?_ To the left was an alley with the light quickly fading from it as the sun set separated the high school from the back of a string of businesses. It was towards this alley you felt yourself walking, not so much choosing to go, but being pulled into it. As you neared, you heard a scuffling, and the thud of something heavy being rammed into a dumpster. You picked up the pace.

Rounding the corner, you could make out seven or eight figures in the dimming light. Large figures. You couldn't hear what was being said, but they were gathered in a semi-circle around two people right up against the dumpster. You quietly crept closer, keeping an eye out for anything you could possibly step on and draw attention to yourself with. You eye a beer bottle, maybe a quarter of the way full, leaned up against a garbage bag, and grab it, thinking that in a worst case scenario you can shatter it and use it as a weapon. As you get about ten feet into the alley, you can begin to hear what's being said.

"Your dad's a crook, Pines."

"Go cry to your ma about it, Crampelter."

"Heh, Pines thinks he's got jokes." At this, the figure holding Stanley, and lord help you, you know it's Stanley, takes a moment to knee him in the stomach. Stanley remarkably stays standing, hands clenched around Crampelter's forearms from where the bully has taken fistfulls of Stanley's shirt and shoved him back against the dumpster. "Now, you're gonna go home and bring me back the rest of what your old man owes me. We both know that I shoulda got triple what he offered."

"In your dreams, Crampelter." Stanley's wheezing from the blow to his stomach, and he still manages to make the bully's name sound like a curse. 

"Have it your way then, Pines." Crampelter releases Stanley, who slumps back against the dumpster, and turns to walk away. From his vantage point, Stanely can't see Crampelter pull a switchknife out of his jacket pocket; but you can. 

Your mind jumps into overdrive. How many are there? Seven? Eight? You realize it's too many for you to fight off, and others are slowly reaching for what you are sure are knives of their own. _What do I do what do I do what do I do_

As quickly as you can you take a few gulps of the leftover beer, swishing it around your mouth before spitting it out. You empty some into the palm of your hand and dab it at your neck, your shirt, the knot where your jacket is tied around your waist. They're all facing away from you and haven't seen you yet, so you quickly back up to the mouth of the alley before barreling forward in what you hope looks like a drunken stumble. You loudly, and badly, begin to sing a song you heard playing in the diner while talking to Marlene. 

"What the hell is that?"

All the attention is on you, and you try to maintain the act as you quickly fumble towards them.

"Under the boardwalk, down by the sea, yeah," you sing, trying to sound as drunk as possible. "On a blanket with my baby is where I'll be," here you've reached the circle and they're staring at you incredulously. You hold the bottle up to your mouth like a microphone and point at Crampelter. "Under the boardwalk," you pull your hand back to make some kind of shoulder roll motion as you sing the next line. "We'll be having some fun," and you point back at Crampelter, with a lopsided smile on your face. He is, understandably, very confused. You wait a moment, then wave your hand in a now-it's-your-turn gesture. He stares angrily at you, but Stanley quietly questions, "Under the boardwalk?" You change to point forcefully at Stanley and yell more than sing the next few lines, Stanley giving a quiet "under the boardwalk" between each. 

You steadily make your way towards him, Crampelter and his lackeys stepping back when you "accidentally" lurch into their space. The end of the give-and-take chorus has brought you to Stanley's side and you loop an arm around his neck. 

"This guy!" You try to slur. "This guy knows how to have a good time!" 

"Uh, Dae?" Stanley is trying to unwrap your arm from around his neck, but you hold on as hard as you can. "Dae, what are you doing here?"

"You know this piece a work, Pines?"

"They're an old-uh, an old friend of the family," he's given up trying to unhook your arm, and you smile and laugh. 

"Aw yeah, Stanley here's been a pal forever! I haven't seen in you in so long Stanley, what are you doin' hidin' back here with these guys?" You turn and pull him in to a hug, hiding your mouth with the arm wrapped around his neck and taking the chance to whisper a warning about the knives into his ear. You feel him tense immediately, but when you pull back you can't see any difference in his face. You really don't want this to devolve into a fight so you continue with your drunken act. "Stanley, I gotta go hooooooome." 

"Then get lost, we got something to take care of." Crampelter says, obviously annoyed. 

"But," and at this you lean towards Crampelter, slightly dragging Stanley with you and pressing a finger against your lips, "shhhh this is a secret," you fake whisper. "I can't remember how to get home!" Halfway through you erupt into giggles and you're not sure whether you're laying it on too thick, but no one's called you out on it yet. "Stanley take me hooooooooome." Stanley looks between you and Crampelter, and you watch him realize the out you're trying to give him.

"Sure thing, Dae." He wraps an arm around your waist takes a hold of the arm slung over his shoulders like you need help staying upright, the two of you making it a few feet and thinking the whole situation will end there and blow over before Crampelter puts himself solidly between the two of you and the path to your escape.

"Oh no you don't, Pines." Crampelter's face is twisted in fury, his forehead and neck red and sweaty. "I'm gonna get my money." He slowly pulls his switchknife out and points it at you. "Your drunk friend is gonna leave, and not cause any problems, or else I'm gonna carve my demands into their face as well as yours." Stanley's arm around your waist has tightened to the point of being painful, and he's pulled you as far behind himself as he can. Crampelter's thugs are slowly closing in again, and you feel Stanley tense even more before relaxing completely with a sigh and a closed-off expression. 

_He's gonna let them let me go_ , you realize. _He's gonna stay behind and let himself get hurt._ Panic begins to well up in your chest, the hummingbird thrum of it filling you up and pushing your mind to think of a way, any way, to get the two of you out of here. _Fight?_ No, you don't remember if you know how to fight and you won't have Stanley trying to fend off everyone alone. _Run?_ Too many people blocking you in. _Call for help?_ Yes! Yes! The policeman sitting in his car at the middle school parking lot! Why didn't you remember him sooner, things may never have made it this far. _No time to beat myself up over that._ You take a deep breath and scream as loud as you can, letting it carry for a moment before seamlessly swapping from screaming to yelling.

"HELP! KNIFE! HE'S GOT A KNIFE!"

The initial scream had everyone surrounding you and Stanley taking a step back, but the surprise wore off quickly and Crampelter began moving in, eyes locked solely on you.

"You're gonna regret doing that."

Stanley surprises you into unhooking your arm from around his neck by shoving you behind himself, bringing his arms up and settling into a neutral defensive boxer's stance. 

"What's that, Pines? You want to go first?" Two of Crampelter's thugs grab you and drag you back. Once they stop and your feet are solidly against the ground you easily twist out of their hold, swinging your arm as hard as you can, shattering the beer bottle in your hand against one's skull and sending him crumpling to the ground. You back up so that you are once again by Stanley, holding your jagged weapon in a way that you hopes deters the others from trying to attack you.

"What the hell?" Confusion seems to be the reigning emotion for everyone other than Stanley and yourself. You give a short, aborted laugh.

"Guess who's one-hundred percent sober, you pieces of shit."

Crampelter roars, you turn your head to see him lunge toward Stanley, and _oh my god this is it it actually turned into an alleyway brawl I hope I know how to fight_ the unmistakable sound of sirens ring through the alleyway. Once again, everyone freezes at the sudden loud noise, but this time when the shock wears off more than half of Crampelter's gang takes off towards the other end of the alleyway. Crampelter lunges for you with a feral roar, and Stanley takes advantage of his distraction to gain the upper hand. Before Crampelter reaches you, Stanley disarms him and locks his arms behind his back. Crampelter completely ignores Stanley and his new position, his attention and rage focused solely on you.

"Do you have any idea how much money you just cost me?" You're taken aback by the raw anger in his voice. "I'm not going to forget this. I will get you!"

Several policemen have reached the three of you, and further down the alleyway you can see several of Crampelter's gang that didn't run quite fast enough being arrested. Stanley is visibly having trouble holding onto the enraged teen, and before the policemen are able to cuff him, he breaks out of Stanley's hold.

The next few seconds pass at a snail's pace. Crampelter drops forward, plucking the knife up and wrapping his fingers tight enough around the handle to turn them white. He swings wildly upward, and you stumble back into the alleyway wall. Crampelter looms over you, arm raised, eyes blazing with fury, and just past him you can see Stanley, arm outstretched towards you, horror and terror shining in his eyes. Time runs normally again. Crampelter plunges the knife down.

..........

..........

"-ae!" 

..........

"-ake up, Dae!"

..........

..........

Stanley's voice is almost impossible to hear through the thick haze of radio static and that single, endless, piercing tone. You struggle to lift your pounding head, and open your eyes to blurry, spinning shadows. 

"Dae!" The shadow that has Stanley's voice gets closer and clearer. He's pale, and blood stains his white shirt. He leans over you, a hand near your face, and gives you a shaky smile. "Heh, you had me scared there for a second." When you try to sit up, he gently pushes you back down. "Not the best plan, the doc here is fixin' up your arm." There are another two shadows, no, people, to your right, one holding a flashlight and the other carefully wrapping up your arm with bandages. 

"What happened?" You managed to ask.

"Crampelter was posessed," Stanley began. "One a' the cops had to tackle both of you to the ground, but Crampelter still managed to get ya' pretty good in the arm. You hit your head pretty hard when the three of you went down."

"So that's why this place looks like some kind of M. Night Shamalan Whoville." At Stanley's confused face you merely huff a laugh and close your eyes to try and make the spinning ease up.

"Alright Mr. Pines, your friend here is all cleaned up. They can go home, but I suggest keeping an eye on them tonight." 

"Thanks, doc. I'll take em' back to my place." Stanley gingerly sat you up, and helped you stand. You began to tilt, the world spinning dangerously and once again you found his arm around your waist and your arm slung over his shoulder. The realization made you giggle. 

"What in the world are you laughin' about, Dae?"

"Looks like I needed your help to get home after all." You managed to get out around snorts of laughter. 

"Yeah, ha ha real funny." He shifted you slightly, relieving a pressure on your shoulder you hadn't realized was bothering you. "Why the hell'd you run towards the guys with knives, Dae?"

"Well, you weren't doing a very good job of running _away_ from them, so..." You winced as a subconcious shrug pulled at the edges of your wound. "So, how long has it been this time?"

"Huh?"

"How long has it been since you saw me last? You know, when I stopped you from running out into the street and getting hit by that truck." His look of concern shifted into a half-smirk, amused by his own forgetfulness. 

"Oh yeah... That musta been, oh geez." The hand around your wrist came up to scratch at the back of his head. "Around seven years? Ford n' me had just turned ten, and Pops had gotten us into boxing classes for our birthday. We were on our way to our second... third class?" His smile slowly faded. "You saved me again today. If you hadn't come stumbling in here like a yowlin' cat I'd a been the one getting sliced by Crampelter." He turned and gave you the most serious look you'd ever seen him make. "How are you always here right when I need ya?"

You hesitated in answering. Did you want to try to tell him the truth, that mere hours ago you had saved him from drowning? But you didn't want him to think you any stranger than you already were, so instead, you smiled brightly at him.  
"Well obviously," you said, with an exaggerated eyeroll, "I'm your own personal guardian angel!" This made him laugh, which jostled you and made you wince, which had him immediately apologizing, which then had you giggling despite the slight pain. You shook your head back and forth in replacement of a hand wave, a quick, _I'm fine, I'm fine, don't worry about it_ to set him at ease while you regained some composure. The two of you hobbled out of the alleyway, opposite to the way you came in, and towards a red convertible. Despite protests that you could stand on your own, Stanley made sure that you were solidly leaning on the car before he unlocked it and helped you inside. He rounded the front and got in, starting it quickly and pulling out onto sleepy streets. He was obviously driving carefully for your sake, and you leaned back against the seat, feeling safe. Your past few hours had left you exhausted, and you let your eyes gently drift shut to sound of a well-oiled engine and rubber on asphalt.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You blink back into consciousness feeling much better, a hand on your uninjured shoulder gently shaking you awake. 

"We're here Dae, still feeling dizzy?" 

"No, no. I should be fine." You say around an enormous yawn. A quick glance out the window puts you back at Pines Pawns, and therefore Stanley's home. He doesn't support you as bodily as he had, but he does keep a hand on your back as the two of you walk up to the door.

He ushers you inside and calls up the stairs, "Ma! Pop! Sixer! We got company!" 

"Stanley, I'm on the phone!" You hear Ma Pines yell back down. Footsteps come down the hall, preceded by a voice you barely recognize. 

"Pop's not here Stanley, he had to go meet-" Stanford stuck his head around the corner and froze, a slight smile appearing on his face. "Dae? What are you doing here?"

"What am I usually doing here?" You joked.

"Stanley what did you do now?" Stanford turned an amused glare on his brother, but his smirk fell away as you climbed the stairs and light illuminated the bandages on your arm and blood on Stanley's shirt. "Oh jeez, Stanley! What happened?" You weren't actually sure if Stanley wanted his family to know about the incident with Crampelter, so you stayed silent and looked to him. Stanley made sure you were seated on the couch before turning and explaining, in hushed tones, to Stanford. 

"Crampelter wasn't happy with what Pop gave him for that junk, and he wanted more. He and his goons had me cornered in the alleyway behind the school." Stanford looked nervously over his shoulder towards the kitchen where Ma, presumably, sat on the phone with a client. "Dae here came staggering down the alleyway singing some oldies song and carrying a bottle of booze. Their act got 'em close enough to warn me about the knives-"

"KNIVES? STANL-" Stanley quickly shoved a hand over his brother's mouth.

"Yeah. So they grabbed Dae, who knocked one of 'em out with their bottle and then had the smart idea to yell for help. The cops showed up, Crampelter lost it, he went after Dae with a knife and cut their arm right before the cop took them both down. Dae here was out for a few minutes, they hit their head pretty hard." 

"But the doctor patched me up, nice and tight!" You added, giving the boys a big smile. "And I feel a lot better after my nap on the way here, so I should probably be going..." 

"Oh no you don't." Stanford was the one to push you from your half-standing position back onto the couch with a careful, yet firm, hand to your shoulder. "You're going to stay right there until we know there isn't any lasting damage from that hit to your head." You slumped down into the cushions, only kind of sulking. You didn't know when that weird pressure in your chest would begin to build again, taking you even further forward in time, but you didn't want to be anywhere around them when it did.

Stanley and Stanford began mumbling between themselves about what to do with you, and despite the nap you'd just had, you felt your eyes closing once more. You barely registered someone moving you so that you were fully laying down on the couch, taking off your shoes and covering you with a blanket before you were once again lost to sleep. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The glow of the sun on your face woke you up, and you stretched in the warmth of the light like a cat, quickly pulling your limbs back in as you almost fell off the Pines' couch. You sat up, blinking blearily and tried to spot a clock somewhere in the room. Thankfully, Stanley chose that moment to go ambling past you towards the kitchen, rubbing sleep from his eyes. He was followed by Standford, who looked much more put together. 

"Come on, Stanley. We've only got twenty minutes to get to school." Stanley merely grunted in response and kept moving towards the kitchen. "Ugh." Stanley grumbled and waved him off. Stanford came into the living room, and he smiled when he saw you were awake. "Dae, you're up! Did you sleep well?" You yawned again, nodding as you did so, and stretched again, satisfied when your joints popped in several places. 

"So you two are headed to school?" Stanley grumbled from his place in the entryway, now sporting a cup of what you assumed to be coffee and looking just a smidge more awake. "Well, don't let me keep you."

"How're you feelin'?" Stanley asked, between mouthfuls of coffee that were less sips than they were the desperate gulps of a man dying of thirst.

"Much better!" You wiggled your arm about. "That, just now? Barely felt it. And my head feels fine." They give you skeptical looks, but you wave them off. "Go finish getting ready for school, I'll walk out with you two." The disappeared around the corner, and you sat back down on the couch to put your shoes on. You'd just finished folding the blanket and laying it over the arm of the couch when Stanley stuck his head around the doorjamb and let you know they were leaving. You followed them downstairs and outside, waiting by the curb as Stanford locked the door and climbed into the car. 

Before Stanford could get the door all the way shut, Stanley leaned over him to yell up at you.

"Are you sure we can't give you a ride anywhere, Dae?" You waved him off. 

"I'm sure." You raised your arm to your brow in a lazy salute, "Try to stay out of trouble, okay?" When Stanford began laughing you leaned down so that you were eye-level. "You too, Stanford." He quickly coughed and stopped, but they were both smiling. You waved them off, and waved to Mr. Pines as you passed by the front of the store, a slight nod of his head the only indication he had seen you. You hummed as you walked down the street, towards the beach this time. There was a slight chill in the air, and the boys were headed off to school so you guessed it was either September or October. _There won't be many people at the beach, then_ , you mused. _I think I'll watch the water for a bit before I get dragged off to who know's where._ You wandered under the pier, getting close enough that you could feel the spray but the waves didn't reach your feet before sitting down in the slight shade. The cool air was refreshing, and finished clearing the fog of drowsiness from your head.

You sat there, watching the sun blaze in the sky over the water, blinking occasionally as light reflected into your eyes off the crashing waves, and felt the tightness in your chest begin to swell. You closed your eyes, enjoying the dichotomy of the warm sunshine and cool breeze, savoring it and the sound of the waves and birds. As the pressure built and built, you raised your eyes to the beam you leaned on, and a few words carved into the wooden surface caught your eye.

FORD + LEE  
THNX DAE

Your smile grew faster than the wave that rushed towards you; by the time it reached the sand beneath you, you were already gone.


End file.
